Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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The next morning the stomach flu struck.
Though they say illnesses are indiscriminate, this one certainly wasn't. With the vial stashed away in my pocket, I'd put myself into the breakfast rotation as a server and slipped through the Servants' Hall full of good cheer. I greeted my colleagues and poured teas and coffees, ladling porridge and sprinkling cornflakes and muesli into bowls with, "My pleasure," and "You're welcome." With a few drops here and a few drops there, the Howell sisters became ill, along with some other nasty-tongued folk I worked with, like Mr. Kilkenny who had a permanent sneer and disrespectful tone whenever he spoke to Josie and her parents.
I might have gone a teensy bit overboard covering for Dolcie. As they fell ill over the day, we became short-staffed. I spent most of my day flustered and scurrying from one job to another to fill in for those who'd succumbed to illness.
Still, it was worth it.
"Lavender or orange?" Beckah asked. Her high heels clattered on wood as she hurried to keep up with my quick pace. I had no idea how she could work in them all day long. "Burnt orange...No wait," she said, flinging out her arms and spreading them wide. "What about teal or a lemony yellow?"
"Blue makes your eyes pop," I replied, heading toward the parlour to attend to the last of my duties for the night. I brushed my prune-wrinkled hands over my black uniform, freeing the front and skirt from white flakes of laundry powder. I'd been elbow-deep in soapy water, removing stains from delicate clothing for the past hour. The white cuffs of my long sleeves were a bit damp but no one would notice.
"It does," Beckah gasped and lifted a hand to touch her temple beside a brown eye gone round in wonderment. A few frizzy curls that had come loose from her bun curled around her fingers. "Navy, peacock blue, or how about sky blue?" She slowed her pace, thinking about it, and I strode on hearing her speak in a thrilled tone behind me. "Yes, sky blue with gold strappy heels. No...gold platform shoes!"
After the shock of discovering Tomas wasn't the baby's father, Beckah, despite saying—I don't know what the hells Oswin sees in my sister—was relieved there was a happy ending to the nightmare of her sister's unplanned pregnancy. While I'd worked alongside Beckah, scrubbing away in frothy water, she'd spent the entire time excitedly chatting about the upcoming wedding and being Dolcie's bridesmaid.
"Beckah," I warned in a low tone. She really needed to go home and I needed to get this last duty over with so I could too. But most of me just didn't want to continue listening to the wedding talk. It left a bitter taste in my mouth knowing that Dolcie didn't love Oswin the way he deserved. I harbored an awful despairing feeling that she'd continue to see Romain while married to my friend.
"Alright, alright, I'm off home." She nudged me with an elbow and wiggled her eyebrows. "To check on the ill-duo, Oswin and Dolcie."
I rolled my eyes and glided the flat of a hand across my hair to smooth back any flyways and check the state of my ponytail.
